


Stuck

by CelesteFitzgerald



Series: NSFW Beatles Omorashi [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Omorashi, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22626949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: The elevator that Paul and John are in breaks down, leaving the two of them trapped. On any other day, Paul would be thrilled about the extra alone time with his boyfriend, but the large amount of liquid building up in Paul's bladder on this particular day is quite distracting.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: NSFW Beatles Omorashi [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627867
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Anonymous6285 for writing an awesome [Beatles omorashi series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612729) and inspiring me to start up my own! :D

Paul had been looking forward to tonight. _Had_ been.

After a long day of performing, heading back to his hotel room with John for some much-needed _relaxing_ sounded like heaven. He figured that getting back to the hotel room would be a bit difficult due to their enthusiastic and borderline stalker fans, but it was nothing they wouldn’t be able to handle.

The elevator was something that Paul never expected to be an obstacle. Elevators had always been a sanctuary of comfort, a place where he and John had complete privacy. As usual, once the elevator doors closed, John’s lips pressed up against Paul’s, shoving him against the wall.

Smiling into the kiss, Paul grabbed John’s hips. Normally, Paul’s gesture would have been powered by nothing but passion, but on this night, Paul used his grip to push John slightly away, leaving a small gap between their bodies. He wasn’t going to admit it to John, but he had had a bit too much water to drink that day, and his bladder was under enough strain without John’s body pressing against it. But he would just use the loo once they arrived at their room—it wasn’t a problem.

Then the elevator shuddered and froze, and suddenly it _was_ a problem.

“Fuck,” John muttered, pulling away from Paul’s lips to face the control panel. He jabbed at a few of the buttons—then ran his hands across all of them—but it had no effect. “Well, that’s just lovely, innit?” John asked.

“Yes, lovely,” Paul mumbled to himself as it started to sink in just how full his bladder was.

After poking at the buttons a few more times, John gave up. “Guess we’ve gotta wait for someone to rescue us.”

“God, are you sure?” Paul asked, desperately looking for any way they could call for help.

“If you don’t wanna wait that long, I could scream until someone hears us—”

“No. Please—don’t.” The elevator was way too small for that—Paul was sure he’d go deaf after five seconds of John’s shrieking.

John smirked. “Never thought you’d pass up on a chance to make me scream,” he teased.

Paul couldn’t help but laugh. “Fuck off.”

“No.” John approached him again. “Since we’ve been given the gift of time,” John said, running a hand down Paul’s chest, “what do you say we make use of it?”

Ignoring the growing pressure in his bladder, Paul smiled and rested a hand on John’s cheek. “Only a fool would say no to that.”

Their lips met again, and their tongues quickly followed. Paul loved the feeling of John’s hands in his hair and sliding up his back underneath his shirt, but the feeling of John pressing their hips together was still too much in Paul’s current situation. He once again put some distance between their bodies to keep John from pushing against his bladder.

But John wasn’t having it. Growling, he yanked Paul towards him, and Paul gasped at the increased pressure. He squeezed his thighs together and let out a small whine to avoid pissing himself.

“You like that?” John asked, misinterpreting Paul’s noises.

“N-no.” Paul let go and stepped back. “John, we need to get out of here fast.”

“Why? You can’t be claustrophobic—we’ve shagged in too many tiny storage closets for that to never have come up before,” John said.

“No—John, I….” Paul didn’t want to admit the truth—John was sure to tease him about it—but he couldn’t think of any other way to get through to him. “I…really have to piss,” he said, looking down at the floor.

John snorted. “Then hold it. Can we get on with this now?”

“ _John_ ,” Paul said. “You’re not listening to me—I’m not sure how much longer I can—”

Paul cut off when a new wave of desperation rushed over him. He cried out and grabbed at himself, trying to hold it in. Thank god, he got himself back under control before anything leaked out, but when he realized the embarrassing position he was in, his face flushed.

“… _Ah_ ,” John said, finally understanding that Paul was serious.

Paul carefully removed his hands from his crotch and tried to limit his squirming as much as possible, but the strange way that John was staring at him wasn’t helping. “John, this is bad enough already—can you just leave me alone until we’re out of here?” he whimpered.

John bit his lip. Then he started _smiling_. “How do you expect me to leave you alone when you’re making all those hot little noises?”

“…John, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious. Look at how cute you are like this,” John said, stepping closer to Paul. “You could fall apart at any second, and there’s nothing you could do to stop it.”

Paul shivered and clenched his legs more tightly together.

“Don’t be shy, love,” John said, placing his hand on top of Paul’s bladder. “I won’t judge if you can’t hold it.” He rubbed small circles on Paul’s stomach. “If you spill all over yourself and make a mess.” He pushed down. “While I’m watching the whole thing.”

It happened so fast. John’s words triggered something in Paul, something that he never knew was there. Blood rushed into his dick, giving him the strangest arousal he’d ever had. And with that arousal came just enough of a distraction for him to slip up.

A short spurt of piss shot out of Paul’s dick, soaking through the front of his pants. He gasped at the warm feeling and cut off the flow as quickly as he could, but the damage was done.

Paul watched in nervous anticipation as John’s eyes drifted downward, widened, then met his gaze. “Is Paulie having an accident?” John asked, his voice gruff and his eyelids lowered.

“No,” Paul whispered, covering the wet spot with his hands.

Smirking, John moved Paul’s hands away. “You sure about that, love?”

Paul grew harder under John’s gaze. “I’m sure.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if we picked up where we left off.” John yanked the front of Paul’s shirt and pulled him into another kiss—and Paul wasn’t complaining one bit. They kissed passionately, not even breaking apart for Paul’s continuing whines at the feeling of liquid building up inside him.

“C’mon, baby,” John said, putting his hands on Paul’s waist and pushing against his bladder with his thumbs.

Paul buried his head into John’s neck and gasped as he leaked again. A larger amount of piss managed to escape this time, and a few drops started sliding down his legs. “John,” he gasped, “I can’t hold it much longer.”

John grabbed his face and looked directly into his eyes. “Then don’t.”

That was all it took. Paul lost control, and a huge stream of piss began shooting out of him. He squeezed his eyes shut and clung to John as relief washed over him. The warm liquid cascaded down his legs into a puddle on the floor, completely ruining his pants and socks and shoes. And it wasn’t stopping. For almost a full minute, Paul continued pissing himself directly in front of John.

Finally, Paul pushed out the last few spurts of liquid, and the elevator was silent. He nervously opened his eyes and was met with the sight of John’s bright red cheeks. John’s eyes looked him up and down, taking in every bit of his ruined appearance. Paul was about to worry that this had all been a trick to humiliate him when John pressed against his soaking wet pants and ground into him.

“I’m gonna break every elevator we get in for the rest of our lives,” John moaned.

Surely there was a much safer way to get the desired effect, but Paul was too horny too care.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is officially my 200th fic posted to ao3. I was hoping to make #200 some big, epic fic or something, but #200 being a oneshot piss fic seems more true to myself XD Lol.


End file.
